Autumnal Equinox 2010

The Harvest Moon, c. 1914

Sir Ernest Albert Waterlow (1850-1919)*

This year in North America the first full day of the Autumnal Equinox coincides with the Full Moon. September's Full Moon is traditionally called the Harvest Moon. Sending hope that it shines on a fruitful time for you and yours.

*Sir Waterlow was an English landscape painter and academician at the Royal Academy. He worked in oil and was also President of the Royal Society of Water-Colour Artists.

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Cupid's garden

Psyche Opening the Door into Cupid's Garden, c. 1904,

J.W. Waterhouse (1849-1917)*

Who knew Cupid was a gardener? Of course he used a classical landscape design. And a whole lotta lawn. But Cupid's not to blame; the anti-lawn movement was centuries in the future.

We're in Cupid's favorite week with you-know-what in the air. These are my garden loves. Yours too?

1. Striped flowers
2. Nibbling the first leaves of agastache
3. Wild violets
4. Rangy rhododendrons
5. Garden swings
6. Afternoon sun shining through redbud leaves
7. Crows yelling at each other while they roost for the night

I got an early Valentine when the inspiring blogger Deja Pseu at Une femme d'un certain age tossed a Beautiful Blogger Award my way. In return I had to list seven things about myself. If you are a femme and hitting un certain age, drop those seed catalogs and rush to her always fab blog.

My Valentine to Deja Pseu--a candy heart that says TRÈS CHIC.

P.S. Gardening chic is not an oxymoron if you follow Angela's advice at Gardening in my Rubber Boots: use Armor All to shine up your Hunter Wellington boots. What do you bet Psyche had Wellies on with that pink gown of hers?

*Mr. Waterhouse was an English painter. This painting is in the collection of the Harris Museum, Preston, Lancashire, England.

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Autumn evening

The Lovers (Autumn Evening), c.1888, Emile Friant (1863-1932)*

A reminder for all of us to stop with the raking of the leaves, the pruning of the wisteria, the dividing of the daffodils--and enjoy the quiet times of the season.

(Click on the painting for a larger image)

*Emile Friant was a French artist. This painting hangs in the Musee des Beaux-Arts de Nancy in France.

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Correcting color mistakes in the garden

Illustration by Sir John Tenniel

"Would you tell me," said Alice, a little timidly, "why you are painting those roses?"

Five and Seven said nothing, but looked at Two. Two began in a low voice, "Why the fact is, you see, Miss, this here ought to have been a red rose-tree, and we put a white one in by mistake."

--Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll

Me too. I ought to have planted a pink Buddleia in my pink border and I put a white one in by mistake. Buddleia davidii 'White Profusion' is going into witness relocation on the other side of the house (as part of the federal Crimes Against Aesthetics Program).

I'm searching for a splendid pink replacement. Any suggestions on varieties?

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Lammas 2009

Haystacks in Late Summer c.1891, Claude Monet (1840-1926)

Lammas marks the midpoint between the Summer Solstice and the Autumnal Equinox. A festival of the summer harvest, it is often celebrated on August 1st.

We're observing Lammas by eating white corn from our friend Astrid's vegetable garden.

Wishing you a happy harvest time!

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Midsummer Eve

Midsummer Eve c.1908, Edward Robert Hughes* (1851-1914)

Best wishes for an enchanting Summer Solstice Eve!

*Mr. Hughes was an English painter and this is one of his best-known works. Prominent in his own right, he also served as an assistant to the elderly William Holman Hunt, one of the leading Pre-Raphaelite painters.

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Eleanor Perenyi on old-fashioned flowers, and a garland of tributes to her

Love in a Mist, Sophie Gengembre Anderson* (1823-1903)

This is the second in my series of excerpts from Green Thoughts (1981) by the late, great writer Eleanor Perenyi. Here is some of her commentary on old-fashioned flowers:

The Victorians meant hardy annuals when they spoke of old-fashioned flowers, a term that used to puzzle me. In Little Women, Beth grows 'old-fashioned flowers,' and I always supposed this was part of Alcott's goody-goody emphasis on out-of-date virtue. That isn't the case. The sweet peas and larkspurs and pinks beloved of Beth actually were old-fashioned by the middle of the nineteenth century--having been superseded by the newer, smarter, tender annuals imported from the tropics and sub-tropics of Mexico, India and South America. The old annuals in contrast were natives of the north temperate zone, age-old denizens of cottage gardens where familiarity and the folk imagination bestowed on them their common names: love-in-a-mist, pincushion flower, bachelor's buttons, sweet sultan.

Several garden bloggers have written on the passing of Eleanor Perenyi and I have gathered the tributes here as a virtual garland for her. Please let me know if there are others to be included.

Country Gardener

Garden Rant

InterLeafings

Recreating Eden

the bark tree

*Sophie Gengembre Anderson was a Pre-Raphaelite painter.

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Watering

At the Fountain, c. 1890, Theodore Robinson* (1852-1896)

Watering is not my favorite garden job.

I can never make it through unscathed. A simple procedure, such as moving the oscillating sprinkler into the center of the blue perennial border, will seem to be going well--when suddenly the hose arcs and strikes my shins, leaving a swath of mud on my pants just above the tops of my rubber boots.

I'm not as dumb as I look, and I finally realized there wasn't any point in doing "just a little bit" of morning watering in clothes I planned to wear into the world. It's one thing to visit Prospectors Nursery bedecked in mud, but agrarian-chic hasn't caught on in other venues.

Nevada County dirt is red and indelible. I'm an excellent laundress, but am defeated by local mud stains, so a new streak of mud is a sadly permanent addition to my wardrobe.

Pass me my watering can instead of a hose, though, and I'm as happy as a child with a favorite toy. I have an old-fashioned Haws galvanized-steel watering can, and using it makes me feel like the girl in the painting.

Time out from the 21st century. Time out from worrying about droughts or global warming. I'm focusing on the fine waterfall from the rose at the tip of the spout, concentrating on the balance of the can in my hand, admiring the plant I'm watering, and remembering why I chose it. Often a butterfly wafts past. The can is wet and I get a swipe of red mud on my pants. That's fine. Nothing can break my mood.

Watering is my favorite garden job--when I have a metal can in my hand.

*Theodore Robinson, an American Impressionist, lived next door to his friend Claude Monet in Giverny, France. This painting is in the collection of The Arkell Museum, Canajoharie, New York.

© Daffodil Planter 2009. All rights reserved.

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AFTER THE IMPLOSION

                                                                      Sharing The Spaces

                                                                    After The Implosion

I started writing this [below] for a letter to a newspaper, but it got too long...so here it is for you instead!

THE IMPLOSION
Media commentary on the global financial implosion is peppered with key descriptive words which have seemingly gone unscrutinised under the deluge of blame, fear and doom reporting and rhetoric. Words such as ‘bubble’, ‘magical’, ‘fantasy’, ‘unreal’, ‘dreamland’ and ‘nothing’ describe the antithesis of reality, yet they hold clues to identifying the underlying motivational [albeit not necessarily conscious] reason for the financial and economic turmoil which has swept swiftly throughout the globe. This reason goes beyond Gordon Gekko’s simple and obvious greed.

Over the last twenty to thirty years postmodernism's distortion into slippery yet seductive narcissistic tendencies and a love of simulacra has insidiously infiltrated many of society’s institutions via memetic means. Narcissism is characterised by a self worship, which proclaims a right to flout rules and regulations, at the same time as making them up for others, who abide only to find the rules change in a nano second, or they are so complex multiple interpretations confuse. Narcissism’s passive-aggressive qualities dupe people into thinking someone cares making sympathy a tool to emotionally colonise the poor, underprivileged and powerless. Conversely the latter [along with everyone else] succumb to the narcissistic seduction by believing they can have a house, a car or whatever without concrete obligation.

The slippery and swift manoeuvring of ‘dud’ deals into packaged ‘investment’ entities to offload onto someone else is narcissism’s game, aided and abetted by simulation. The simulated experience is also seductive because an escape to a fantasy world where everything is available and abundant seems possible. The sub prime debacle is an example of simulacra vanishing in the face of ‘authentic’ experiences of ‘real life’, one example being interest rate rises. The debacle whipped the rug from under narcissism’s feet causing the economic ‘house of cards’ largely built from more simulacra to collapse.

Society’s core values have been hijacked by the underbelly of post modernism’s narcissistic inability to share. Lack of emotion, except for selfish and sensationalist emotional displays designed to manipulate, is a characteristic of narcissism. In varying degrees this behaviour is part of normal teenage development, so perhaps the crisis is a wake-up call to grow up! The world currently has deeply bended knees. The hope is that when the world jumps it actually moves and does not land on the same spot becoming the arrested teenager. The latter is unlikely because the crisis is very serious and the need for new paradigms supported by core values which embrace the experiences of a world where globalisation has collapsed the distance of difference is obvious.

The implosion could be seen as an inevitable aspect of post modernism’s demise and simultaneously a sign of burgeoning new paradigms which collectively have yet to be named [and possibly even identified]. Within the artworld artists, academics and theorists have been contemplating the question of ‘what’s next?’ for some time. In this way the artworld can be seen as a barometer for detecting, reflecting [and sometimes affecting] change well before the broader community is aware that failing structures are actually heralding something new. Hopefully whatever is ‘new’ will retain the best of postmodernism including its creative insistence to stretch boundaries to test whether what seems impossible has real possibility.

Art’s agency is its potent ability to be reflective, yet at its weakest this can merely scaffold existing paradigms. Art’s less obvious agency is its ability to be affective albeit not deliberately so, otherwise it falls prey to restrictive and prescriptive didacticism and purpose. Flexible skills in perspective are needed to negotiate or dance across the contemporary ‘stage’ which exists between the global and local ‘wings’. Art's agency is its potential to provide experiences with multiple, distorted, unexpected perspectives both literally and metaphorically.

Perspective of others and self is enabled by contemporary life which is about living locally in the increasingly globalised world. Thus, perspective gained by experiencing multiple viewpoints creates a [potential] space/place where compassion for self and others can flourish and be shared in dignified, equal and mature relationships, negotiations and transactions in all areas of life.

Healthy self-interest becomes a compassionate urge at a micro level knowing that it wants and needs to positively affect the community or macro level. World leaders and the general population must re-build foundations based on underlying compassionate principles taking into account the individual and the collective. For this to be effective it needs to be done without wasting time on blame and retribution because basically we all passively [through ignorance and disinterest] or actively played in post modernism’s illusory playground where ‘bubbles’, ‘magic’, ‘fantasy’, ‘unreality’, 'dreamland' were the games [albeit at times very enjoyable games].

All good things must come to an end and whatever happens next will ultimately implode/deconstruct/die to make room for the necessary out-picturing of evolutionary urges.


Image above-After The Implosion Gouache on paper 25 x 18 cm 2008
This work on paper was inspired by the possibility of something new happening in the aftermath of implosion. The 'new 'errupts in a way which whilst not necessarily identifiable is possibly detectible by the very existence of implosion. I have used the spiral to reference my interest in Don Beck's Spiral Dynamic Integral theory. http://www.spiraldynamics.net/

Sharing The Spaces Gouache on paper 21 x 30 cm 2008

Spaces are created when we have perspective literal and metaphoric. The distance in these spaces can be close or far, spatial or temporal, conscious or unconscious, material or spiritual and so on. These spaces are not empty.